Push
by cupidmissed22
Summary: Sometimes the last thing you wanted is exactly what you needed all along. RogueJean Slash. Not quite M yet, but it will get there, I promise. In the meantime, please R&R.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

Even as the rain pounded on the windows and the sky remained a dull, unchanging gray, Jean felt a sense of peace and relief flow through her as the car drew closer to home. She had been at a medical conference in Boston for the last ten days, brushing up on the more mundane aspects of doctoring (as if she could possibly forget how to suture in her job; granted, it had been awhile since she'd treated anyone for arthritis), and hearing about the latest advances in several fields, as well as several fascinating and potentially groundbreaking drugs about to hit the markets. Although her calling was the science of genetic mutation – her life revolved around it – she had found it refreshing to rediscover what had drawn her to medicine in the first place: the thrill of saving lives, pure and simple. There wasn't anything else on Earth that could possibly get anyone through a medical internship.

Even as she'd enjoyed the conference, she'd also taken the time away as an opportunity to sort out her "problem": namely, the triangle that seemed to have developed between herself, Logan and Scott. She'd been frustrated for months, not only with the eternal pissing contests between the two men, but more with her own inability to make a decision. Sure, she was with Scott, but all three of them knew that her heart wasn't really in it. Accordingly, she'd left with every intention of coming to a conclusion about the matter, or at least coming a sight nearer to one. Once again, she considered the two men and what they offered. Scott was everything a girl could dream about: handsome, strong, steady, charming, and incurably sweet. They were perfect for each other; hell, they were practically an institution. He worshipped her, adored her, and would until the day he died. And yet, the fact of the matter was that being worshipped just wasn't enough. When Scott made love to her, he treated her as if she would break or disappear at any second. Unless they were fighting (which was a rare occurrence indeed), he was deferential. While he took obvious pride in her accomplishments, he was far too practical and tactile to keep up with her intellectually. So, she'd realized that while she loved Scott, she wasn't in love with him. How could anyone possibly share a life with someone from atop a pedestal? It couldn't be done, which left Logan: a wild card if ever there was one.

If she was an object of adoration to Scott, the opposite was true of Wolverine. Around him, Jean felt something akin to prey. Everything was primal: they each became something to be had and ravished and then, if the pattern held, left until the next time the beast overcame them. Logan was impossible to predict or hold down, and always a force to contend with. Perhaps it was this reason that made him impossible to get over; but in any case, Jean knew that she needed more than that in a partner. She needed to be cherished, she needed some security, and neither of these seemed to be an option with Wolverine. Granted, his almost father-like interactions with Rogue seemed to belie that, but Jean had a sneaking suspicion that the credit for his interest belonged to the girl, who was, in her experience, occasionally charming, completely intriguing and always impossible to deny. Not to mention damn sexy in X-men leathers, Jean thought to herself, and promptly wondered where in the world that particular thought had sprung from.


	2. A New Assignment

Part One: A New Assignment

Her homecoming was greeted with little fanfare, which suited Jean just fine. Logan had left for parts unknown several weeks before, and Scott had not yet returned from the weeklong Outdoor Ed trip he was leading. A somewhat muted Bobby arrived at the door to help her with her bags and put the car in the garage, while the Professor waited to escort her to her room. While he was as happy to see her as usual, something was clearly on his mind and he was having trouble verbalizing it. Jean didn't push, knowing eventually he'd come out with it. Finally, he broke the stiff silence. "I'm very glad you're back. We missed you around here. You enjoyed yourself, did you?"

"Yes, I did." Jean replied honestly. "My trip was refreshing… and enlightening, to say the least."

They continued a few more feet along the hallway before the Professor finally broached his concerns: "Jean, I need you to help me. I've got a feeling we have a complicated mess to deal with, and I'm afraid I've only managed to make things worse."

Now Jean was intrigued. Rarely, if ever, had Charles Xavier made a problem worse. "Of course, Professor. Anything. What happened?"

"I assume you noticed that Bobby isn't himself?" He waited for her nod. "He came to me a few days ago on some ridiculous pretext or another, but really, he came to discuss Rogue. He'd become concerned about her. We all know that understandably she's never been one to mix freely with the other students, but lately, she's been increasingly withdrawn. He said something about her disappearing for hours to "blow off steam," and then submersing herself in her studies."

Now Jean began to understand his concern. Rogue was always focused, some might even have said intense, but this was extreme even for her. Jean wondered why he was discussing this with her specifically, though, when troubles with students were normally a staff-wide concern, discussed in meetings. "I'm certainly worried by this too, Professor," she replied. "But why are you coming to me with this now, and how did you possibly manage to stuff this up?"

Xavier looked at her uncomfortably for a moment before continuing. "After speaking with Bobby, I naturally began to look in on Marie, to see what was going on. It was uncommonly hard to do. I believe that she's put up mental barriers subconsciously as a means of protecting herself. They are of a strength that I've never seen before in someone untrained and, as far as we know, not telepathic. I believe that this is why none of us caught on to her distress sooner. Marie is, quite simply, a mental and emotional Fort Knox. When I did manage to track her down, I discovered that she's taken to going on long runs, or holing up in one of the empty labs near the infirmary to study. According to Scott she was a little off the last time the X-men were training and…"

"Let me guess, you called her in prematurely to find out what was wrong and it set her off?" Jean interrupted.

"Exactly so," he replied shamefacedly. "That was five days ago, and since then, no one but her roommates have seen her outside of class and mealtimes, and she has nearly doubled the total number of martial arts and weapons training simulations that have been run in the Danger Room this past month. I'm going to brief the entire staff on the situation at the next meeting."

Slightly overwhelmed, Jean pressed for the answer to her second question. "You still haven't told me what you want my role to be in this, or why you're telling me this now."

"I'm telling you all this, Jean, because I think you're the only one here who can really help her."

"But why me?" Jean asked him in astonishment.

"Well, you _are_ a telepath and an empath, both of which I think you'll need. You're also her teacher, a woman, and probably the only person of importance in her life that she feels she hasn't let down recently, if only by virtue of the fact that you haven't been here. But most of all…" he paused here for a moment, "because I just know that you can get her through this; that _you_ _need_ to help her through this. Call it an instinct."

Jean couldn't do anything but nod in the affirmative, a weight settling on her as her heart began to break just a little bit for Marie. Why am I reacting like this? So strongly? she wondered to herself.

Seeing her nod, the Professor relaxed a little and, leaving her at her door, told her, "Good. For the next while, I take my cues from you where Rogue is concerned. You tell me what needs to happen and the rest of the staff and I will make it so." With that said, Jean let herself into the room she shared with Scott.

As she unpacked her things absently, Jean tried to come up with some sort of a game plan, and was surprised at how little desire she had to mentor Rogue. She wanted to help her, yes, desperately, but not in the way she would any other student. Instinctively, Jean knew that there was more than that on the line here, for both of them. She also had no idea where to begin. Exhausted, Jean decided to call it an early night, and went to bed, thinking about Marie and praying that she'd find something to go on.


	3. Baby Steps

Part Two: Baby Steps

Jean spent most of the weekend holed up in her office, organizing her lesson plans for the next week and reviewing the notes that Hank had left from her classes while she was away. Late Sunday afternoon, she was caught completely off-guard when a very pale Marie stumbled into the infirmary, clutching a shirt tightly to her side and cursing under her breath.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jean heard her mumble, as she watched blood begin to seep through the shirt. It was enough to snap her out of her daze and immediately use her TK to move Marie onto an examining table as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

"Marie, what happened? What did this?" she asked anxiously as she fought to remove her student's hands from her side. Marie only grunted in pain and gingerly wiped her hands on her shorts.

Jean stifled a gasp as she cut off Marie's shirt and saw the size of the gash. Opting to save the questions for later, she grabbed a clean towel to staunch the blood flow, and using her TK to apply pressure as Marie paled even further and bit down on her lip, she loaded a syringe with Xylocaine and injected the anesthetic directly into her patient.

Shortly thereafter, Marie's breath began to even out as the pain in her side receded. She focused on her Biology teacher, taking in the red hair, the now blood-spattered shirt, the green eyes that radiated concern and something Marie couldn't place, and most of all, the warm hands that were gently running across her skin as Dr. Grey checked the extent of her injuries.

For her part, once the shock of seeing Marie injured like this had passed, and she had ascertained that the damage looked far worse than it was, Jean found herself enjoying looking Marie over, taking in with her eyes and hands the muscles in her legs and shoulders, the curve of her hips, and the emerging hardness of her abdomen. She didn't dare look above.

Jean felt as if she had shocked them both when she released the pressure on the wound and quietly said, "That's going to need some stitches. Can you feel anything?"

Marie shook her head 'no,' and tried to avoid watching as Jean pulled out a suture kit, sterilized the area and began stitching her up. Feeling more settled than she had in a while, in spite of their ludicrous position (lying on an examining table in only your sports bra and running shorts while your biology teacher stitched up proof of your failure and stupidity was hardly the right time or place to have a 'breakthrough'), she looked over toward Jean once more and said, "I was meaning to come and talk to you anyway about our project."

Still carefully stitching, Jean couldn't help but let out a laugh at that. "And you couldn't have just emailed me or come in after class?"

"Well, I think this is a bit more memorable, don't you?" Marie quipped back.

"Certainly," Jean agreed as she finished stitching. She held her patient down as she tried to sit up. "No," she told Marie calmly. "You're going to lie there and rest while I suss you out properly."

Marie watched as Jean finished cleaning her up and bandaging the gash. She brushed a stray lock of white hair out of Marie's eyes as she took the pulse at her neck. Satisfied at last that Marie was well and truly okay, she pulled a chair up next to her patient and finally asked, "What happened, Marie?"

Unaccountably disappointed that Jean had finished bandaging her up and wishing that the hand that was resting on the table, so near to her shoulder, was on her, Rogue turned her gaze away from her teacher before quietly admitting, "I guess I pushed it a little too hard in the Danger Room."

Well I figured out that much. Jean thought to herself. Instead, she asked, "Weapons training?"

"Yeah. Blades." She responded uneasily. "I was, uh, getting a little tired and I missed my footing." Marie knew full well that Jean would probably go retrieve her training recordings later to see what had happened, and when she did she would find out that she'd been working a full two levels above her level four weapons clearance.

Jean had suspected as much, but she was getting tired of talking to Marie's profile. Relishing the opportunity to spend some time with the girl, curious about the extent of her gift, and knowing that trying to make her rest and heal would be either totally impossible, or at least counterproductive, she decided to try something. "Marie, drink this." She said, handing the girl a bottle of juice. She watched, fascinated, as Rogue sat up and swallowed half of it at a go. "How do you feel?" she inquired gently.

"Fine." Marie answered quickly. Seeing the disbelieving look Jean shot her, she hastily amended, "A little faded, maybe. But I'm okay. Really. Whatever you shot me with was good stuff."

Jean took a deep breath. "Marie, I know you're still a bit amped, but I want to try something. You game?"

Yeah. And the Pope's a bit Catholic. Marie thought. Jean caught the thought and laughed aloud again.

"Doc, are you reading me?" Marie almost growled. Jean could feel the levity being sucked out of the air, could feel Marie shutting down and closing her out again. Her student, on the other hand, was more worried about what she would find out than about the intrusion into her thoughts.

Sensing the impending panicked reaction, Jean hurried to put a stop to the inevitable. "Marie, don't shut down on me. I just picked up on a stray thought, that's all. I can't help it; I'm a telepath. I'd never do that to you."

Inwardly, she couldn't believe that she was in such a rush to justify herself to her intensely private student. But so it was. Jean couldn't bear the thought of alienating Marie and she certainly wasn't ready for this little interlude to end. She looked down at Marie, who was looking as inscrutable as ever.

"Fine. I'm sorry for channeling Logan there. I just…" Marie trailed off.

"I get that, Marie. And believe it or not, I actually want you to channel Logan, or at least, his power that you absorbed. So, I ask again, are you game?"

Much as she hated the thought of anything to do with her mutation, Jean looked so… cute, so hopeful, that she couldn't bring herself to refuse. Making a bit of a show of it, she acceded. "Alright. If the Doctor wants to play, who am I to refuse her?"

Jean could feel her excitement bubble in her. If Marie could control individual aspects of her mutation, then maybe she could control all of it… but she was getting ahead of herself.

Could you get any closer to rubbing your hands together, Jean? Marie smirked at her. She was a little shocked when her teacher answered her aloud. "Yes, I'm restraining myself for your sake. Now, loosen yourself up a bit, shut your eyes and focus on your breathing."

Marie did as she was told. With her eyes closed tightly, she tried to focus on the steady in and out of her breath. She tried _not_ to think about how good it felt to have Jean focused on her. How she wasn't feeling alone for the first time since her mutation had manifested itself.

_In. Out. In. Out. Come on Marie. Just focus. In. Out. In. Out. You can do this. In. Out. NOW DAMMIT! _

Jean could see that this wasn't working. Marie was trying too hard. She tried a different tactic. "Marie, this isn't a test. You're not out to prove anything. Just rest. Just _be_ for a few minutes, okay? Relax and let your mind take you where it wants."

That got a better reaction. For the first time in awhile, Marie allowed herself the freedom to just revel in how comfortable she was. For awhile, she let herself forget that she had something to prove. Jean saw and felt her let go as her breathing evened out. After a few minutes, she began guiding Marie. "Marie, I want you to think about when you absorbed Logan's power. Can you do that for me?"

The breathing pattern picked up for a few seconds before Marie visibly re-centered herself and nodded. "Think about how that felt to have it flow through you. Do you remember?"

Again, Marie nodded, not noticing as her fists clenched. Still her breath and heartbeat remained steady. "He gave you two gifts, Marie. One was regeneration. Can you feel that?"

Another nod. "Focus on that Marie. Use it. Try and use it now."

Jean watched Marie continue to breathe for another minute or two, taking in the details of her form and features, before she heard Marie let out a small gasp. The girl was clearly trying hard to keep focused. Looking down, Jean watched as the gash sealed itself over and began to heal. Marie had done it. With another small moan, the girl slumped to the table, leaving the wound still present, but clearly better.

Jean managed to remember to slip on a lab coat before she hopped up onto the examining bed and cradled Marie to her. Moments later, Marie came back to herself.

"How'd I do?" she asked wearily, totally content either way to stay where she was for a very long time.

"You did great. I'd bet I can pull those stitches out tomorrow now." Jean replied. "And I doubt there'll even be a scar."

Basking in the glow of Marie's accomplishment, neither of them noticed that Jean's sleeve had ridden up where it rested against Marie's shoulder. After a few minutes, Marie shifted, and realizing the position they were in, Jean let her go with a last, gentle squeeze. Feeling slightly awkward as she began to recognize what she was feeling around the redhead, Marie jumped off the examination bed and grabbed her shirt as fast as her injury would allow. She'd just about managed to make it out the door when she heard Jean calling to her. "Marie," her teacher said with a self-satisfied smile on her face, "about your project? Meet me in my room after class tomorrow."

Jean's eyes never left the retreating form until the infirmary doors shut behind her.


End file.
